Crooked
by oh-the-linsanity
Summary: They try to mend what's broken as everything around them burns.
1. c r o o k e d

c r o o k e d

It was a long trek home.

He can hear the sirens in the distance. The city glows brown and yellow, the stars brushed over in ash. The streetlamps are sickly and cast eerie shadows as Naga whimpers along, her front paw injured from a fall she took earlier. Mako tries to focus on the mark behind Bolin's head as his brother has the reins, his head bobbing to the left from Naga's painful limp. Korra's head keeps swaying wildly, but there's nothing he can do. She's unconscious and Mako's arm _hurts _and he's only got one to hold her upright and flush against his stomach. When they turn a corner, her head bobs forward and bumps Bolin in the back.

"Careful, bro," he comments gently.

Mako ignores the pain in his other arm as he uses it to help push himself forward. Korra leans against Bolin's back, Mako pushed up against her as best he could to keep her upright.

"Okay?" Mako whispers. His brother nods.

They go three more blocks before Naga lets out a painful grunt. The dog whimpers and stops, begging to sit. The brothers can't blame her and Bolin's the first to jump off. He faces his brother and Korra and watches as Mako clumsily tries to get him and her off the dog safely. Noticing the struggle, Naga starts to sit. They wobble but Mako catches himself, leaning on his bad arm. He hisses in pain but covers it up quickly as Bolin turns his back to the couple.

"I'll carry her."

Mako grabs Korra by the shoulder—he steals a look at her eyes. Still closed. "You sure?"

"I would never drop her, Mako."

And so they continue to awkwardly change their travel accommodations. He helps hoist Korra onto Bolin's back, wrapping her arms snuggly around his neck. He notices her foot seems to dangle crookedly in the air. Bolin locks his arms behind her knees and scoops her higher on his back and starts to walk. Mako falls in step behind them, grabbing Naga by the reins.

"Thanks for the help," he says to the dog. Naga nudges him in thanks and they continue to the Arena. Eventually they make it, and Mako is impressed by his brother's strength. He remains upright, like Korra isn't the tall, muscled figure she is. They begin to walk up the stairs to the attic. They air is sticky and muggy and Bolin's rough breath is louder than the sirens that blare above the city.

Bolin focuses entirely on making it up the stairs, but Mako's mind wanders. He focuses on Korra. She's awkward and limp and her eyes are _closed_ and he's afraid that when she opens them, they'll be blue. He wants them to sparkle like the ocean, glitter like the sky, but he's afraid they'll glow and haunt and tear everything in sight—

She stirs.

"Bo!" he hisses. Bolin turns his head slightly when he feels Korra dig her chin into his collarbone.

"Hey, darling," Bolin chokes out. His voice his weighted heavy with breath and emotion and fear. "You put up quite the fight." His voice cracks.

She moans painfully. Her fingers curl around the fabric of Bolin's torn shirt and hold on tightly. Bolin feels hot tears soaking through the shirt.

"Bolin—" she sounds five years old, a small child whose been hurt and doesn't know how to handle it.

"Yeah, it's your old buddy, Bo." Bolin grunts as he misses a step on the stairs, clearly distracted with Korra's awakening. Mako reaches forward and steadies his brother. As he pulls away he can't help but brush the strands of Korra's messy ponytail. He starts to pull away, but his touch lingers and he picks up the pace to keep up with his brother so his hands can play with her hair.

His actions don't go unnoticed. "Mako?" Korra whispers. Mako fingers the ponytail one last time before his hands linger to her partially exposed cheek. The calloused pad of his thumb brushes her skin softly—her skin is hot.

"I'm right behind you," he says, his voice loud enough to echo off the walls. She moans again.

Mako is still playing with Korra's hair when Bolin struggles to open the door. Finally fed up, he uses the last of his strength to pathetically kick the door open. It opens, if barely, and Mako steps around them to help usher them all safely inside.

The apartment glows the same eerie colors. The entire city is on fire and light overflows into the room. Mako steals a glance outside toward Air Temple Island—it's pitch black.

Mako doesn't notice his brother place Korra somewhat ungracefully on the couch. His hands immediately fly up to his neck and he massages his own muscles, cracking his neck left and right. He leans over and places the back of his palm on her forehead. "Mako, she's got a fever." He frowns.

Mako knows he should rush over there in urgency, but the news doesn't surprise him—he still remembers the fire he felt underneath her skin. He slumps over and takes a closer look. She's shaking and her brows are in a deep crease and there's sweat dripping down her temples. "Korra," his whispers.

She only whimpers.

"Can you open your eyes for me?" Mako asks gently. He isn't used to being so gentle with her—he's never had a need. Korra's the strong headed stubborn ass that's always in need of a stern talking to. She's the trouble maker, the fighter, the strong one.

But not today. So, she doesn't answer him.

Bolin leans down as well. "Please, sweetheart." The words fall awkwardly off his tongue. They aren't being goof-offs at the bar or mocking couples in the park. But he needs her to know that he and Mako love her and they just want her to be okay.

She squints her eyes and lets hot tears roll down her cheeks before she opens them. Mako catches his breath of relief when he sees a dark cloudy blue. The color of pure water, the color of life , the color that's supposed to extinguish the flames of the city. But he doesn't need to remind her of her failure because her eyes aren't blue like the sky, or blue like the ocean, but blue like a storm, with winds of failure and pain.

She arches her back and her mouth opens weakly and she lets out a weak cry of pain.

Mako looks at his brother. He's crying and he notices he's already grabbed her hand. They both have white knuckles, they're holding on so tight. Finally, Bolin looks to his brother and says, "She needs to cool down." Bolin leans forward and takes in his brother's appearance. He notices his arm covered in blood and bruises and the sweat collecting at his brow. "You too."

Mako nods and heads to the bathroom. He turns on the light but immediately turns it off. It's too bright. Instead, he rips the blinds from the small window in the corner. There's the glow again. He reaches down and yanks the knob all the way to the left.

He heads back to the living room where Korra is already sitting up. She's panting and clutching at her side. He sees Bolin whispering to her and she just nods, pushing him away gently as she stands on her own. He knows she doesn't want help, but Mako stumbles over and slings her arm around his shoulder, his arm around her waist. For the first time ever, she doesn't protest his help.

He makes it to the bathroom and lets her go slowly. She stands on her own. He reaches for the knob, but Korra steps forward and lifts the mechanism on the faucet up. The pipes rumble a bit but soon water spits out of the shower head.

The light from outside only illuminates half her face. He sees a collection of busted capillaries on her temple and her hair looks burned on the edges. The shadows make hallow shells of her eyes and there's a cut running along the side of her cheek. He watches her eye his arm with scrutiny before looking back up at him.

"Help?" she asks. He isn't sure if she's asking or offering, but he realizes it's probably a little of both. He steps forward, his hands ghosting around her figure before he finally grabs her by the shoulders and sits her on the edge of the tub, away from the facet.

"Up," he nudges her arms and she slowly obeys. He ignores the pained look that twists on her lips as he fumbles with the hem of her shirt and takes it off, leaving her in her bindings. He looks down and notices dark, raw red patterns on her skin. Above her naval is a burst of bright red, the cosmic aftermath of a lightning burn. There's a faint pattern of purple and green in the shape of a hand around her neck.

"Korra," he breathes, a loss for words. He finally looks away from her injuries, but she won't look him in the eye.

"Don't," she begs. She shuts her eyes tight. "Just…don't."

He nods and his eyes wander to her baggy pants. "Do you need…?"

"A little…yeah."

Mako bites the inside of his cheek as he helps Korra stand and get out of her pants. He takes her heavy clothes and tosses them in the corner. She sits back down, albeit a little clumsy, and motions him toward her. He obeys and kneels in front of the tub. She runs his fingers through his hair a few times before she reaches down and starts to tug his shirt off him. She does her best not to cause pain, but she is unsuccessful as he grunts a few times.

"Sorry," she amends quietly.

"It's okay."

Mako doesn't need any help out of the rest of his clothing. After he tosses his things with the rest of hers, he grabs her hand gently and helps her up, weaving her fingers between his own.

"You can sleep after. I promise." It isn't the cleanest way to take a shower, still in their dirty bindings, but it's the most comfortable, Mako figures. He pulls Korra into the shower, when a flash of lighting makes the room go white, and the maroon stain on the side of her bindings becomes clearer.

"Korra," his voice is louder than he wanted, more desperate. His fingers instinctively reach for the wound—"you're bleeding."

She shrugs her shoulders, her eyes downcast. He steps back out of the tub, his body almost pressed against hers. He leans over and rests his chin on top her tangled hair. "You need to take it off," he says into her hair. He presses his mouth to the top of her forehead and waits for the subtle nod. She does, eventually, and he helps her unwrap the top of her bindings.

He tries again to lead her into the shower. He's a little thankful for the lack of light, as he can only see faint lines and silhouettes of her figure. He tries to only look at her face when a flash of lightning would light the room, but that was already hard enough. She looked so defeated and broken and _tired._

They stand together in the shower, arms length apart. Korra focuses on the birthmark on his collarbone and her fingers run gently up and down along the tops of his arm. A few times her fingers play with his hair and tug on his ears. Mako's breath tickles the side of her neck as he leans forward, nuzzling her neck and untying her already messy hair from its holdings. He reaches in the shower basket for a comb and taps her shoulder. "Turn around," he commands gently. She does as he says and he begins brushing the knots in her hair away, as best his handicapped situation allows him. Korra lets her head fall forward as the cool water pounds against her aching back.

The attic rumbles as another airship roars above the arena, no doubt going to the scene. Both benders look out the window, where they can still see part of the city lit ablaze.

"It'll be alright," Mako finds himself saying.

Korra shakes her head. "Liar."

He finishes brushing her hair and she turns back around, finally looking Mako in the eye. "Let me see your arm." He detects her commanding undertone and obeys, lifting it up. She inspects it carefully and reaches for the soap and starts to clean the wound. "I'm not sure it's broken…but I bet it hurts," she admits.

Mako allows her to nurse his arm and clean his wounds. She presses her fingers firmly but gently into his skin and Mako almost sighs in content, if it weren't for the other stinging pain that radiated from the rest of his body. Unable to notice, he looks toward her bare breasts, trying to locate the deep cut beneath her bust. He sees a sliver of blood tricking down to her hip.

"You're turn." He presses her shoulder with two fingers and she sits in the tub, her legs outstretched and wrapped around Mako's hips. He sits and does the same, scooting forward so they're only inches apart. He fights the urge to drink in her figure, her beautiful, exposed olive skin. He focuses entirely on the wound as he cleans it. He notices it might need stitches and starts to think of the time Bolin was 8 and he needed stitches and he tried to do them himself but they were so _crooked _and—

"I'm sorry I can't just…you know," Korra chokes out. He can't tell if she's crying, and he's starting to think that's why she wanted a shower.

"It's only temporary." Mako reminds her. He feels Korra shudder.

"It gets longer and longer every time. One day, I'm not…going to be the Avatar anymore. One day, my bending really will be gone forever."

He leans forward and touches her forehead with his. "You're crazy."

She gives a grunt of sarcastic humor. "Doesn't mean I'm wrong."

"Stop," Mako breathes. He grabs her by the chin and makes her look up, and he sees a flash of pain come across her eyes, and he wonders what memories he's triggered. He moves his hands to gently cup her cheeks and give her the faintest and gentlest of smiles. The water sounds calming and rolls gently of their skins. He rubs her cheeks before his hands slide down to her neck where he gently rubs the bruises there. She moans a bit, some from pleasure, some from pain and when she looks back at him once more, she loses it.

He lies back in the tub and lets her fall into his chest, sobbing. "I'm sorry," she keeps saying. "I'm sorry!"

He wants to tell her she has nothing to be sorry for. But really, they all have something to be sorry for.

So instead, Mako says,

"Me too."

He's never been one to make a sound when he cries, but he feels the weight of his tears roll down from his cheeks and he's thankful Korra can't tell. He rubs circles into her back and let's her get it all out. He's starting to wonder about how to stitch her wound when he sees a bright flicker outside that for once, isn't lighting. He hears cries throughout the city as Republic City goes pitch black. The water from the shower head spits out one more blast of water before fading away, leaving them soaked and damp in a pitch black bathroom.

"Korra? Mako?" Bolin knocks softly on the door before letting himself in. He holds an oil lamp, his face tired and his hair messy. "You guys okay?"

Korra is quick to stop her crying and sit forward, not uncomfortable with exposing her bare chest. She wipes the water from her face and wrings her hair out. "Okay enough, I guess," She starts to stand up, but wobbles and Bolin is quick to step over their clothes and steady her. He sets the lamp on the ground and helps Korra step out of the tub, then Mako.

"Korra needs stitches." He nods toward her. He looks over and sees the wound on the side of her ribcage.

He seems unfazed by her nakedness. "I think I remember where the first aid kit is." He grabs the light and leads them to the couch in the corner of the living room. Air Temple Island looks bigger from there. Bolin trudges quickly to his room and fetches a pair of clothes for his brother and one of his own oversized T-shirts for Korra. "Here," he says warmly.

"Thanks, Bo."

He's back in a few minutes with the first aid kit and hands it to his brother after he shrugs on his clothes. "I don't do such a neat job," Mako admits. "My stitches are a bit crooked,"

Korra wears a wiry smile. "Then they'll match everything else in this city, won't they?"

He doesn't respond as he gets to work.

* * *

AN: I was thinking of ending it here. If anyone thinks it needs a continuation, I'll gladly do so!


	2. j a g g e d

j a g g e d

She looks at her hand—it's covered in ash.

Her eyes sting with a mix of hot tears and grime as she tries to look through the haze. She tries to ignore the pitter-patter of footsteps, the sound of hands banging on metal, and most of all the faint cries of agony muffled under debris. She sucks in a deep breath and coughs.

"Dad!" She shouts. She puts her hands on her knees and wills herself to stand. There isn't as much smoke as there was minutes ago, but it still leaves a funny taste in her mouth and blackens the nostrils of her nose. She coughs into her hands again and pretends she doesn't notice the splatter of blood left on her shirt.

"_Dad!"_

She starts to move. She doesn't dare look down so she walks carefully, testing each and every step so as not to step on anything sharp, anything broken, anything that might resemble someone she might know. Things are still dark and things are still hazy but there's enough light for her to tell what space is big enough for her to maneuver and step through. She occasionally weaves and ducks, trying to find the door. She doesn't remember City Hall being so big.

She wants so desperately to find him. He can fix this, he can fix anything! He's kissed all her wounds better and made her breakfast and told her stories and when he hugs her she feels safe. But there were a lot of people around, a lot of dads, so she takes a deep breath and tries again.

"_Tenzin!"_

The name sounds funny on her tongue. As soon as the word leaves her mouth she falls into an almost uncontrollable fit of coughs and the ash on her hand is replaced with blood. A persistent pain at her side becomes unavoidable and she presses her hand gently to the wound, only to whimper at what she found. It was hot and sticky and she blood pooled into the palm of her hand.

"Tenzin," she chokes out, but it isn't loud enough for anyone to hear. She was suddenly aware of the pounding in her head, the wavering of her vision and she yanks her head to the sky. The ceiling is gone, the stars are missing and the moon is tainted yellow. She bites her lip _hard_ and wills the tears collecting in her eyes to stay. But she can't find her family, she can't find her friends and everything has gone to hell.

Jinora screams.

It's small and faint and jagged because she doesn't have the breath to do it properly. She slowly brings her head down and looks to her left and right for anything to help her. She wants to stay and wait for her father but as the sounds of falling debris grow louder and the moans grow more sickening, she realizes she has to do things on her own.

Jinora feels too young for this.

She trudges forward and despite being light as air, she trips, her chin colliding with something rough. She reaches out and grabs something she thought she's never see again—her glider. She stumbles to her feet and picks up her glider, inspecting it carefully. Miraculously, it's in tact. She can't tell if it's hers, but she knows it's not her fathers and that worries her. She gathers the courage to look to the ground and see if Ikki's around. She spots a limp hand and quickly looks back toward the better light, resolved that she'd make it home.

Alone.

She tries to airbend, but it does no good. Once she bends the dirty air away, a new wave of pollution takes its place and the whole thing tires her out. She uses her staff as a cane and wobbles to the streets in front of the now fallen City Square.

Her mouth falls open in horrifying surprise. It wasn't just the City Hall that was destroyed. The tall skyscrapers were cut in halves and fourths, strewing the streets with twisted chunks of metal and broken glass. She doesn't see much of anything, just a few people she doesn't know wandering the streets, no doubt just as shell-shocked as she. She opens her glider with a gentle "swoosh". She grabs at her side, her movements agitating her wound. But she manages to mount her glider and find the strength to pick off the ground.

She glides to the highest stable point she spots. She loses her strength and falls roughly to the ground, tumbling a few times and almost falling off the edge. Her glider lands a few feet away, the top pointing the greatest amount of destruction she'd ever seen.

The city was on fire.

She spots police air ships over the more lit areas, with water benders spraying rockets of water on to the hottest parts of the city. She notices just how many building around her are fallen and she begins to wonder why Lin Bei Fong wasn't over here. But as she notices the flicker of embers and the steady stream of smoke coating her lungs, she realizes the city has already declared them dead.

Jinora whimpers.

She looks to the horizon, past Yue Bay and toward her home. She makes out the tower where she meditates and she thinks she can even pick out where her bedroom is, but it's no use. The island is pitch black, and she doesn't know what that means. She turns a little ways over and spots Aang Memorial Island.

The statue is broken and on fire.

Jinora shuts her eyes. She doesn't want the image of her grandfather tainted. She starts to recall the stories her father told her when she was even younger. They bring her comfort—the tales of the good guys winning. That's how it was supposed to be. That's what her father told her.

"_The Avatar is here to help us keep balance. And no matter the challenge, they've never failed."_

She opens her eyes and looks to the statue again. The flames lick at his glider, at the medallion around his neck. She drags her body to her staff and uses it to support her weight as she stands. She hears a rumble, but this time it isn't from any machine. Lighting cracks across the sky and rain starts to trickle from grey skies. The rain turns the ash on her skin to mud and she runs a hand through her hair. Lightning flashes across the sky, jagged and sharp.

_crack!_

She pushes the image of Korra dropping out of the sky to the back of her mind.

Jinora starts to wonder why all the stories her father told her were never—unhappy. Sure, he talked about the struggles Aang and his friends all went through, but all the stories, all the battles, the entire war fell into his favor. Zuko went from bad to good and there was peace and the good guys won.

But Jinora can't find her father. She doesn't know if the rest of her family is safe, or if her culture has been erased for the second time. She doesn't know if Korra's alive or where Mako and Bolin are, and she sure as hell doesn't know what to do next. Jinora looks at her hands. She spots a patch of blue that stops at the back of her wrist and she pushes the sleeve up to reveal the unfinished tattoos.

She starts to think she doesn't deserve to have them finished.

Jinora sighs. The cool rain feels nice and even though there's dirt running down her cheeks, she feels cleaner. The sound of the approaching storm blocks out the sound of destruction. It makes her feel at peace and she's tempted to meditate but this isn't the time, isn't the place. She needs to start making plans, trying to find her family, trying to learn how to survive. It's such a shame she doesn't know how.

"_No matter the challenge, they've never failed,"_

"I will make no such promises," Jinora whispers. And with the pounding of rain singing harshly in her ear, she lies on her back and falls asleep.

* * *

_I've decided to continue it. _

_I'm going to start this new thing where I'm going to write it as I go and post every day. I want to stay motivated and finish something for once, so yeah. If there are errors, I will go back and correct them, but for now I want to just get the story out there. _

_I know this isn't exactly a Mako/Korra thing (yet) but just trust me. I got some gears turning, and I think you guys will like it in the end. _

_Thanks so much for the responses!_


	3. c r a c k e d

_c r a c k e d_

"Shit!"

She doesn't recognize her own voice. She's not one to curse, but she doesn't have the time to dwell on the thought. She reaches into her pocket, keeping one arm on the handle to steady herself and throws a smoke grenade behind her. She takes a look back, making sure it deploys, before revving the motor and popping a wheelie, going down the road at speeds unheard from anyone else.

Her goggles are covered in dust, but she doesn't have any water to clean them with. She lands the wheelies and listens to the motor of her satocycle grind and push, challenging the sound of any airship siren. She makes a sharp turn to the left into a suspicious alley. She steals a look behind her—there are fewer numbers than before, but it's still enough to annoy her. She races down the cobblestone street and makes a sharp turn, this time right, and she's back on one of the main roads in the city.

She hears the air ships above her roar. She looks up and wonders if Chief Bei Fong is up there, ready to help, but she doubts it. She drives past the central station, past the power plant and she stares at the horizon, trying to make it to the docks. The young woman digs into her pocket and feels around for anything to aid her—she's out of smoke grenades, but she's still got her blade and her sword in its holder around her waist. She rounds another corner at unbelievable speeds—but then time seems to stand still.

She doesn't know what happens first; the massive collision or the mind-numbing pain. They both seem to hit her with such force that she thinks she ought to die—and she probably should—but instead she bathes in horrific pain. She's tossed of her satocycle in what's probably half a second, but it feels like half an hour. Time slows as she's sandwiched contortedly in a mess of equalist satomobiles, enemy satomobiles, and the guys following her. Her head hits the ground with one blunt force and she's thankful for her helmet. She's sure her brain is splintered and her skull is cracked so she just lies there and waits for the fight that surely will end her.

It never comes.

Asami closes her eyes, trying to pull any distractions from her aching head. She grabs hold of some memories from her younger days, when her mother was still around, but there aren't that many and the pain is intense. She opens her eyes and is startled to realize her vision is messed up. She blinks a few times and it starts to return. Asami carefully tests her boundaries and slowly sits up, cradling her head carefully. She inspects her wrists, fingers, arms-all fine. She looks down at her feet and toes—all fine as well. She shifts her weight and hisses in pain.

The blade.

It stuck to the inside of her thigh and when she notices how short the handle is, she knows it's in deep. She doesn't think twice as she unties her headband and counts to three before reaching down and yanking the damn thing out. She bites her tongue so hard it bleeds, but she doesn't cry out. She wraps the wound tightly and waits a few minutes, and she's surprised with how little it hurts. Her brain is too preoccupied with her head to give any attention to the wounds elsewhere on her body.

The situation has run her patience dry and she stands to her feet. She's wobbly and unsteady, but her legs support her and she can move around well enough. She looks around and spots a rather large chunk of broken glass. Careful not to add another cut to her list of injuries, she picks the prickly piece of glass up and takes look at her reflection.

She pales at the sight.

Her white helmet is dented on one side. She knows her head isn't dented as well, but it makes her fear what kind of wound lays underneath. She tentatively places both hands on the helmet and gives it a good tug. She gives a cry of pain.

It's stuck.

Asami doesn't have time. She looks around and sees equalists sprawled along the street, their limbs twisted and contorted around the charred remains of their own vehicles. She sees her own satomobile and frowns—it's been completely smashed. She starts to look around for a replacement, and eventually does find one only slightly dented, propped up against the wall, the rider limp on the ground. Ignoring the pain, she dashes over and reaches down into the man's pocket—a taser. She grabs it and puts under her shirt and hops in the satocycle . She kick-starts it once, twice, several more times, before it roars to life. She steps on the gas and heads back down the road.

_crack!_

It starts to rain.

She flies past everything, the lights of the city murky green under her goggles. It becomes impossible to see and she slows to a stop, only to discard the goggles and continue down. The fires were brighter and the ash was darker. Only when she passes broken families and clusters of panicked people does she wish she had them back.

She reaches the docks and the Arena and Air Temple Island come to view-both are black, void of light. She looks the statue of Aang ablaze and mentally curses. They probably aren't there, and she doesn't want to waste her time trying to find her boat or hijacking someone elses'. She starts back up and heads to where the start of the fight happened.

When Asami gets there, it's dead quiet. She sees people walking around, but they aren't talking, and she knows why. It's practically a smoky grave and the police haven't even bothered. She fiddles with her cycle and finds the light, turning it on. She slows her pace and maneuvers through the fallen buildings, trying to find her friends.

It feels like forever when she looks up and spots a glider hanging dangerously from a tall peak. A small part of her hopes it might be Korra's, but she knows better. But if it's not Korra, then maybe Tenzin and right now she needed someone. She jumps off her seat and climbs the stack of debris where she finds a little girl with her head to the clouds, soaked to the bone. She pays special attention to her clothes and she realizes she's a monk—specifically one of Tenzin's little airbenders. She leans down and taps her on the shoulder.

"Hey, honey," but she doesn't stir. She shoves harder this time, and that does the trick. The girl's eyes fly open in panic.

"Korra?"

Asami bites her lip. "No, it's me. Asami? I don't know if you—"

"I remember."

The rain makes Asami's hair stick to her cheeks. "Are you okay?" It's a stupid question, a really stupid one, but it's a start. She watches Jinora's hands hover over her stomach, but she curls her fingers into a fist and places it in her lap as she sits up.

"I'm fine." Jinora stares at Asami's head. "Your head is dented," she says lamely.

Asami sighs. "I know. I got in a little crash, is all." She reaches over to where Jinora's stomach is stained crimson. "May I…?"

She nods and Asami lifts her shirt up just a bit. The wound had already crusted over. "Be careful," she murmurs. "It needs bandages, but otherwise you'll be just fine."

"Fine…" Jinora mimics under her breath. She reaches for the helmet. "You want me to take it off?"

Asami gently pushes her away. "Not yet." If she couldn't get it off, there's no way Jinora would.

Jinora turns away from Asami and to the horizon. "Where's Korra?" she asks.

Asami shakes her head. "I couldn't tell you." she watches as the little girl's face scrunches with worry. "I'm sure she's with Mako or Bolin," she amends quickly.

Jinora turns around. "Do you know where they would have gone?"

Asami's eyes drift to the bending arena and her heart skips a few beats. That was the best bet but as she surveyed the area around here, it seemed to be the only place untouched, unharmed. Of all the places to equalists would attack, she was surprised the pro-bending arena wasn't the first one on the list. Instead it stood tall and looming, completely intact.

And that alarmed her.

"Yes," Asami drawls, grabbing Jinora's elbow and helping her up. "But I suppose if we don't hurry, she won't be there for long."

* * *

He's woken with a sudden jolt. His eyes flash open and he's met with his brother's unusually bright green eyes, up and personal in his face. He's so close he can see the worry lines on his face and he wonders when Bolin was one to start worrying.

"Bro?"

Mako tries to sit up, but he stops. He's now aware of the extra weight sprawled on top of him and when he tilts his chin down strands of brown hair tickles his nose. He stays perfectly still for a few seconds and counts the number of times her chest moves up and down as she sleeps snuggly with him. His hands tentatively reach down and wrap around her before looking back at Bolin. "Yeah, what's up?"

Bolin sits next to the bed. "You got a flame?"

Mako didn't even consider how long his bending would be gone this time. He holds his hand to the ceiling, but he can't get a fire going. "No," he states distastefully. "What about you?"

A puzzled look crosses his brother's face. He pulls out a miniature earth disk and bends it to his will. "Yeah. It's all back."

"What?" Mako hisses all too loud. Both brothers look to Korra. She shifts in her sleep and mutters something incoherent before squeezing Mako tighter and continuing to sleep.

"Shh!" Bolin whispers. "What do you mean you don't have your bending back? Are you sure you're not just….trying hard enough?"

Mako frowns. "I can assure you, I've been fire bending quite awhile now—I think I know the basics." He begins to caress Korra's shoulder. "I wonder if she—"

Bolin shifts uncomfortably. "I don't even want to think about it."

"Well, we kind of have to."

"I know I just don't _want _to." Bolin stares at Korra. "I can't even wrap my mind around the idea of Korra, the Avatar, not being able to bend. What would that mean for the rest of us?"

"Don't talk like that," Mako warns and he thinks he sounds a lot like his mother.

Bolin pokes his brother's shoulder. "What we need is a plan, captain."

Mako sighs. "I know," he whispers. They all sit in quiet. Mako goes back to counting all the times Korra's chest moves against his and it comforts him, knowing she's in his arms and breathing. He saw her fall from the sky, her spine twisting contortedly as it slapped against the ground, and he thought surely she should have died. She was bruised and busted and broken but she was alive and he could only go from there.

Bolin studies his brother carefully. He watches as an unfamiliar expression consumes his face. It's one of somber desperation, one he didn't see when he was fighting for their lives on the street, or even when their parents died. It was layered with complicated stitches of love and confusion and Bolin started to wonder just how much his brother loved the girl in his arms.

"Do you _really_ know, Mako?" Bolin whispers.

"…I wish, bro. I wish."

* * *

_I'm so thrilled with the responses I've been getting! This is way more popular than I would have hoped! Thank you all for your kind words and detailed reviews—they make my day. Again, I hope this story is to your liking and I'm going to try to post frequently. Thanks again!_


	4. c r u m b l e d

_c r u m b l e_

"_And the best part is…the eclipse isn't even our biggest advantage. We have a secret. You!"_

"_Me?"_

"_Yep, the whole world thinks you're dead! Isn't that great?"_

"_The whole world thinks I'm dead? How is that good news? That's terrible!"_

_._

_._

_._

"_I've failed. I've let the whole world down—"_

"_Katara, I—"_

"Hey."

She wakes up slowly, calmly. She doesn't remember the last time she slept so peacefully. There was no one reaching for her in the darkness, no scenarios that fell out of her favor. Just flashes of images and memories she knows nothing about. She looks around and notices a pair of thin muscled arms holding her snug. She tilts her neck awkwardly and sees Mako. His eyes are closed and there's a ghost of a smirk on his face. He starts to scratch her back affectionately.

"You kick in your sleep," he remarks lightly.

She digs her heel into his calf. "Do _not."_

Mako manages a chuckle. He moves her hair that's ticking his face and runs his finger along her collarbone. "Did you beat the big, bad sea monster?"

Her brow knits together. "Huh?"

He shrugs. "You were mumbling in your sleep. Quite a dream. Something about how the universe "loves proving you wrong," and such." His good mood seems to falter. "Can't say I blame you at the moment."

"Oh," Korra mumbles. She instantly recalls hazy images of metal ships, red cloaks, and a staff, much like Tenzin's. Her dream was sporadic and unorganized. It was like the time Amon knocked her out and she saw the image of Aang coming towards her, angry and on the offensive. But this was simpler, longer and heartbreaking. The last thing she wanted was another tale of immense failure and regret.

The wound on her stomach suddenly gets more painful.

She doesn't hide the realization well. "Whoa, easy. You alright there?" Korra nods. She sits up slowly, untangling herself from his arms and props herself on the other end of the bed, stretching her feet. She shoves her toes in his face, coming dangerously close to his nostrils. He splutters a bit before swatting her away.

"Stop asking me that," her mouth in a thin line. "I'm awake now, alright?"

Mako looks away quickly, towards the living area where he knows his brother is probably still sleeping. "I hate to ask but…can you bend?"

Korra's brow scrunches in confusion. She tries collecting a flame in the palm of her hand. But she has no such luck. "Do you have yours?" he shakes his head. She bites her lip and swallows her fears forcefully down her throat. "I'm sure it'll come back. Amon didn't touch us."

Mako nods, although unsure. "Yeah, but Bolin has his bending back."

Korra throws her feet over the side of the bed. She peers her head over and she can see Bolin's head on the couch, Pabu resting comfortable on his stomach. "Strange," she mumbles. She tries to get up but her joints protest and her head complains and she sits back down. She roughly slams her head into Mako's chest and snuggles back into his hold. "It's like a wretched hangover," she frowns.

Mako goes back to scratching her back. "No, you're much worse to deal with when you've got a hangover."

"I'd_ so_ set your ass on fire if I could."

"How convenient."

They fall into silence and Korra's hand starts playing with the hem of his torn shirt. She lifts her eyes to the nearby window and watches the moon; she remembers the stories Katara told her when she was a little girl, all about a beautiful Princess from the North who became the moon spirit. Katara told her that story right after her first waterbending lesson. It was summer, making the days long. It was probably three in the morning but the sky was still bright and the world was still white and Katara smiled at her the whole day through.

"Mako?"

His touch goes cold. "Hmm?"

"When was the first time you firebended?"

He frowns. Korra waits patiently for an answer, but it doesn't come. Finally, he lets out a breath that tickles her face. "I couldn't tell you."

"You don't remember?"

"Nope," He says, smacking his lips. "I guess I've spent so long trying to block out the bad memories of my childhood, that I erased some of the good memories, too."

Korra wrinkles her nose. "That's silly," she comments.

Mako pokes her side, curious. "How so, Miss Avatar?"

She leans up from his chest, her icy blue irises pooling into his own copper spackled pair. "Trying to forget a part of who you are."

His mouth unhinges slightly. Korra was one for long spiels and speeches that didn't always get to the point. She was full of rhetorical questions and trickery. It was rare that she uttered the sagely advice so worthy of her past lives. But times like these, when it slipped out so innocently, so sincerely, he felt his heart swell.

"That's why you're the Avatar…and I'm an idiot."

* * *

Jinora concentrates on the sound of wind pounding through her ears.

The roar of the motorcycle was too much and the faint sound of dying embers was too little. She liked her element, and as the wind whipped through her face, tossing her ash-covered hair, she felt a little safer. Asami had a gentle grip on her hands as she held them on the handlebars. She remembers Asami giving one last half-assed effort to remove her helmet and she remembers the poorly masked cry of pain she gave when she was unsuccessful. She had whispered apologies and told Jinora she'd just try to be careful before placing her on the front of the motorcycle where Asami could keep an eye on her. She revved the engine, the only sound of life for what was probably blocks, and headed down the boulevard toward the harbor.

"Is this your motorcycle?" Jinora asks, just loud enough to be heard over the engine.

Asami takes a sharp turn, tossing a glance behind her. "No," she answers gently.

Asami starts picking up more speed. The wind in Jinora's ears grows to a painful roar. "You think we'll make it in time?"

Asami leans forward and pushes the engine harder.

* * *

"Hey! _Hey!"_

Korra and Mako wake to face the fearful eyes of their third teammate. Their expressions fall to match his. "What is it?"

"_Fire!"_

Despite any of their previous injuries, Korra and Mako are immediately on their feet. Korra looks left and right, but the apartment looks the same as it was before she fell asleep again. She looks to Mako who wears the same perplexed expression.

Bolin grabs them each by an arm and shoves them to a window he's opened. They each lean their heads down and look. It takes a few minutes; Korra spots a pair of florescent goggles and follows the trail to the corner of the arena.

Fire.

"Shit!" she exclaims. She's suddenly angry, very angry. "Dammit, we should have known better!" She turns to Mako, whose expression no longer mirrors hers. Unlike her, his face is crestfallen and completely terrified. That's when she remembers.

He can't bend. And neither can she.

The foundation shakes as an explosion goes off on what they assume to be the bottom floor. "The arena's going to collapse!" Bolin shrieks.

Korra looks to her hand one last time. She tries producing a flame, bending her sweat, moving the training disks in the corner of the room—nothing.

"Dammit!," Tears are slipping down her cheeks. "Guys, I can't help you!" She looks to Bolin. "I can't help you."

He does his best to maintain his composure. The arena shakes again. "I can still earthbend. I'll move any debris that's in the way." He looks to his brother. "We just got to get out of here!"

The three bust out of the apartment and start running down the flights of stairs. At first, things seem normal, aside from the smell of ash that seeps through the walls. But as they go down three, four flights, fire licks at the wooden banisters and the corners of the walls and finally the entire staircase. The three stand in shock as a ceiling support falls and adds to the existing kindling.

Bolin coughs. The smoke is thick and it clogs his lungs. They'd been out of the fray for just a few hours, but it feels like it had only been seconds ago when he couldn't breathe. Memories clog his mind. He shakes them away and looks back to the powerless duo behind him. "Just follow me, okay?"

It does him no good that he can earthbend. Instead, he kicks aside flaming wood and creates a narrow pathway that would surely kiss their exposed skin with sparkling heat but it's good enough to get them down the last few steps to the gym, where they can cut through and use the other staircase he prays isn't on fire as well. Mako and Korra follow behind, weaving as flames dance, shrinking and growing and teasing them with burns. They make it to the gym and they all fall into a coughing fit. Korra runs to where she knows the barrel of water for training is. She looks down and frowns. It's all evaporated. She doesn't dwell long on the disappointment as Mako grabs her arm and tugs here away.

"Come on," he begs desperately. "Keep moving!"

There's another crash and it rumbles the floor, causing them to lose their balance and fall to the ground. There's a subsequent crash that causes the ceiling tiles to cave in and crumble to the ground, adding ten times the amount of smoke and reducing their ability to see and making it nearly impossible to breathe. She looks for Mako, for Bolin—she can't find it. She coughs again and the smoke starts to taste like stomach bile and her eyes water and she's so _thirsty_ she's willing to sit and cry and give up if it means getting to drink her own tears.

Spirits, she's never felt so helpless.

"Korra!" She hears her name, but she has no idea where they are. She coughs and this time, blood splutters from her lungs and stains her fingers cherry.

"Mako!" Cough. "Bolin?"

She manages to stand up, but the smoke isn't any thinner. She heaves and wheezes and she can hear the roar of fire but all she can see is smoke. It's darkening the corner of her eyes and filling her lungs and the whispy wind is killing her and all she wants is _air._

_She needs air._

She twists and turns and lets out an agonizing scream. She shuts her eyes and she thrusts her hands wildly about her and when she opens them, she can see them, wide-eyed and in disbelief.

The smoke is gone.

"Airbending? W-what! You told me you've never been able to airbend before!" Bolin accuses. He coughs.

Korra shakes with emotion. "I haven't!" She looks around. "Is that seriously what I just did?"

Mako runs up to her and pulls her into a bone-crushing hug. "Yes, yes you did." He takes a deep breath. "I can _breathe_. Thank you."

She takes in another breath-not completely clean, but its air. "Let's just hope I can do it again."

* * *

AN: So..my bad. I know I said I'd post every day, but I got a little stuck with transitions. I also started AP exams and Cinco De Mayo was last weekend…and you get the picture. I'm not completely happy with it, but I'm hopeful that after some feedback I can work with it. I think I'm doing a good job of doing the whole, slow revealing process of what's gone down, but then again I'm the one who knows what's going to happen. If you guys are confused, TELL ME, I'll be happy to go back and make it more clear.

Also, thank you so, so SO much for the reviews guys! Your words are so kind and they mean so much to me!


	5. s m a s h e d

s m a s h e d

It was uttermost chaos outside.

The Fire Ferrets were unaware of the amount of destruction going on while tucked away in their little tower. The entire arena was going up in flames; the red-hot dancers tickling up the sides and breaking open windows. There were people scattered in the streets, running. People were running out of the arena and Mako didn't even know there had been anyone else there. He assumes from the suffocating silence and the eerie stillness that everyone had either fled or died. But there were cries and screams challenging the roar of the fire and if he closes his eyes tight enough he can almost pretend history wasn't repeating itself.

Fire had put him out on the streets when he was 8, and fire was putting him right back out there again.

He feels a rough tug to his sleeve—it almost sent him sprawling to his knees. Korra leans in, her sharp, chapped lips brushing jaggedly against his cheek. He spots ash sprinkled on the edges of her eyelashes before she opens her mouth and whispers harshly, "Keep moving, City Boy!"

He blinks slowly and when he looks back, his brother is charging through the streets, Korra close behind. Out of habit, Mako fiddles with the scarf wrapped around his neck and starts moving, ignoring the desperate cries and putrid smells. He jogs awkwardly and with his better arm reaches and grabs Korra's hand. She squeezes each finger, acknowledging his touch, savoring it. But she doesn't look back and keeps following Bolin.

Bolin was moving faster than before. He's in his element now, surrounded by miles of Earth, ready to bend at his manipulation. He glances back and sees his brother, one arm clinging to Korra, the other one tugging at his scarf and frowns. Mako was used to leading the pack, always with a determined expression on his face and a flame in the palm of his hand. Bolin wasn't there when their parents died—but his brother was. Back then, Mako couldn't firebend, or at least didn't know enough to amount to any use. He stood there, helpless, while his own element tore their parents apart.

Here he was, back in the same situation. Nothing but his father's scarf and a fraction of an Avatar to help him.

And him. Mako had him.

It was Bolin's turn to be there for Mako.

A loud crack booms across the sky. The mess of people all look up, expecting a flash of lightning or downpour of rain to smear ash and despair on all their faces But the screams grow louder as The Fire Ferrets watch with the rest of the city as the center of the building explodes.

The arena begins tumbling down.

"_No!"_ All three stand in shock as clouds of smoke collect in cylinders. Metal bends unnaturally and the center gives. The towers go first, leaning dangerously to the side before breaking off in dangerously large chunks and hurling to the ground.

The smaller debris reaches the ground first. Korra uses Mako for support and hops in the air over his shoulders, turning and twisting until she creates a dome of spinning air, sending the debris that would crash into them into opposite directions. She continues with her efforts, confused and unfamiliar with airbending techniques. She had practiced moving like an airbender for months—she understood the concepts of freedom and change and movement but it was different to actually bend air. Her awkwardness was apparent and in seconds she begins to tire.

"Bolin!" She cries. Bolin grabs his shocked brother and the weary Avatar and throws them to the ground before creating a shelter of earth to protect them from the flaming chunks of metal that hit. The sound was horrifying as they collide with the walls, sending small pebbles and dust to collect in all their hair. Korra looks up and saw a steady, calm look of focus on Bolin as he maintained the integrity of the defense. But when she sees Mako she feels her heart pulse and her wounds grow more painful.

He looks terrified.

"Mako?" she whispered. "Mako, what's the matter."

He stares at her, his copper eyes dulled with smoke. "Korra, I—we—"

She crawls towards him. She finds his hand, covered in dirt. "Hey, what happened to the guy that told me not to worry, that is was only temporary?"

Mako sighs. "He never got his bending back."

She wipes the grime from his cheeks with the back of her hand. "But it will. If I still have mine, then I'm sure yours is still there too—somewhere, deep inside."

His features relax considerably, although he remains troubled. He glances to his brother and sees the pained expression on his face as he replaces wall after wall as they were destroyed. He couldn't sit by and let Bolin bear the burden just because he couldn't get his own shit together. His eyes drift back to Korra, who wore a faint, sad smile on his behalf.

"Come on, cool guy. You are not your bending." Bolin replaces another wall.

"How much longer?" Bolin asks hurriedly. Korra listens as another chuck of the arena pounded against the rock.

"It's a pretty big arena, Bo." She ran her arm along his bicep. "Keep it up. We would be in deep shit without you."

Sweat drips down his brow, but he flashes her a cheeky grin nonetheless. "I always knew I carried this team."

"You know, you are not your bending either, Korra." Mako whispers. She turns an ear. "You are so much more."

Her sad smile returns. "I wish that were true."

Bolin grunts as the biggest piece of debris hits the wall, breaking it in several pieces. Korra uses some of her remaining strength to airbend the metal away, taking the fiery dust with it as well. They're all on their feet, looking around into the heart of the disaster.

It's still.

Korra brushes off the floating scraps of papery—like debris from her shoulder and shakes the rest from her hair. She doesn't spot anyone—they have all fled. She thinks she sees someone not moving hundreds of feet away but she whips her head around and swallows the bile that rises in her throat.

The quiet aftermath is disturbed by the roar of a motorcycle.

It appears out of nowhere. The driver whips it to the side and the tires skid, but stop. A little girl in the front jumps off and starts running toward Korra, arms out.

"_Korra!"_

She squints her eyes and recognizes the bright stitches of her clothing, the way her hair frames her face. "_Jinora!"_

She's slow to the realization as Jinora runs full speed, using her airbending to help her along. Korra takes limping steps and finally falls to her knees, letting the small girl tackle her and push her on her back. Korra squeezes the girl to tightly, she thinks she can probably align Jinora's ribs with her own. There are tears running down both their face and Korra is kissing the top of Jinora's head and the little airbender keeps mumbling "_gone."_

Mako and Bolin turn their attention to the woman on the motorcycle. They watch as she struggles to take her helmet off, grunting with each unsuccessful tug. Mako squints and notices the emblem on arm—the same one that's on each of their uniforms.

"Asami? Asami!"

She forgets the helmet and runs to them, embracing both brothers into a lively hug. Mako is the first to push them back. He reaches for Asami's chin, turning it left and right.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" he rambles, inspecting her face for any lacerations. She kindly pushes him away.

"I crashed my motorcycle. I stole this one from an equalist." She looks to the fallen arena. "Not as fast as mine, I suppose…" her voice trails off before she looks to Jinora and Korra, a small smile gracing her lips. Her hands reach up to her helmet and she sighs. "It won't come off," she whines. She isn't one to whine, but the damn thing is tight and her head is pulsing and it just plain hurts.

Mako tugs Bolin to her other side. "On the count of three. One, Two—" He looks to this brother and nods. They tug on the helmet, not waiting for three. Asami gives a loud cry of pain as the helmet is ripped from her head, dry flakes of blood piecing on her shoulders and sticking to her hair. They look inside –the helmet is stained maroon. Mako prods at her head, parting her hair and looking for the wound.

Her skull is cracked open.

"_Shit,_ Asami," he breathes. He takes a step back from the mere shock.

Bolin takes a peak, but quickly turns away, nauseated at the sight. "How are you alive, woman?" he exclaims.

She groans, rubbing her temples—her fingers trace blood around her ear. "Divine Intervention, I suppose," she grumbles. She looks to Korra. "Please tell me she can heal?"

Mako and Bolin shuffle their postures. "Not at the moment."

Asami's eyes widen. "What, why not? He—he didn't take her bending did he?" She bit her lip.

Mako grinds his teeth, slow to answer. "Yes and no."

She raises a delicately sculpted brow. "Meaning?"

Bolin lays a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Means we'll have to bandage you up the old fashioned way, Miss Sato."

The three wander slowly to Korra and Jinora who still lay scrambled in the streets, lost in each other's embraces. Finally, Korra pulls away and holds Jinora's face in the palms of her hands, caressing her cheeks. "Where are the others?" Korra asks.

Jinora's bottom lips quivers. "I don't know."

Korra wipes away another tear before she brings the girl to her chest. She feels shirt stain with hot tears. "We'll find them, don't you worry." She strokes the top of her head, playing with her bangs that are messy and falling in her eyes. She pushes them back and gasps.

Her fingers trace the faint blue outlines. "When did this happen?" she breathes.

Jinora pulls away, quick to fix her hair, tug her sleeves down to cover her unfinished markers. "Daddy was going to finish them in the next few days," she stares at the ground unable to look Korra in the eye. "He—he's never done them before and he wanted to make sure I wasn't in too much pain and he was going to _finish _them but then—"

Korra pulls her chin up, forcing her to look at her. "They'll get finished. I promise."

"But what if—"

"Don't," Korra whispers, shutting her eyes tight. She doesn't want to dream of the possibility. "Don't say it." She breathes in, out, regaining her composure. It's strange how easy is, despite her situation. She blames it on the airbending. "If it means I have to finish it, then dammit, I will. "

Jinora wipes at her own eyes. "No offense, but only an airbender can gave another airbender tattoos."

Korra smiles, the most honest one she's smiled all day. "Not a problem. I'm an airbender, too."

Jinora's eyes widen. "Really?" Immediately they shrink, believing it to be a sham. "Prove it."

She looks up to see Bolin and Mako with Asami in toe. Asami smiles gently at her, offering a small wave. Korra looks to Bolin and Mako and gives a small wink before reaching into the crumbled earth and collecting a few small pebbles.

"Check _this_ out." She takes the pebbles and twirls them in her hand, making them go round in an ellipse. She finishes her little trick by blowing an obnoxious blast of breath in Jinora's face, making her stumble backwards and revealing her unfinished markings of a young master.

"I'll be damned," Asami mumbles. She leans down to Korra. Asami watches as a fresh sliver of blood drops down her cheek and splashes to the ground. Her jade eyes waver with concern. "But Bolin and Mako say you can't heal. Korra—what's going on?"

Bolin pinches the bridge of his nose. "Lemme take a stab at it. You can't firebend." Mako visibly cringes from the corner of his eye.

"No," she answers.

"You can't earthbend."

"Nu-uh."

"You can't _waterbend"_

"Nope," she smacks her lips together, elongating the syllable.

"…But you suddenly know how to airbend?"

"That is correct." Asami and Jinora share disturbed looks.

Bolin scratches his chin. "…I'm very confused right now." All three Fire Ferrets are hit with a wave of nostalgia. Months ago, they had met the young Avatar, master of three elements. Now she was before them, beaten and broken and with little ability to remain the only element she was never comfortable with.

Mako rearranges the scarf around his neck. He turns his back and tries quickly to produce a flame, an ember, but he gets nothing, not even a puff of smoke.

"You and I both, Bro. You and I both."

* * *

_AN:_

_This is going to be a long authors note (If any of you actually read these things and care)_

_1) I've gotten past the first major plot...event. That was the hardest part. Now it'll be full speed ahead. (Well maybe in like a week or so because I actually have to teach myself microecon. for the AP exam next thursday. and I mean, I have to relearn everything. Yep. It's gonna suck.)_

_2) I hope this chapter wasn't too boring. It was the wrapper-upper and I used it to kinda define one part of the situation so no one has to rely on assumptions and hints anymore. (Well until the next part mwahahah)_

_3) Also, LOVING THE FEED BACK I HEART YOU ALL. It's what makes my heart go pitter patter and all that glittery mush. Thanks bunches!_

_4) last note. I want a tumblr but I can't figure it out and I'm technologically challenged heellllppp meee._

_I'll be your best friend? Maybe? No? Okay._

_Thanks again!_


	6. c l o u d e d

AN: We're going to try this note at the beginning now. Yeah, that's good, I like that better.

Super depressed the S. S TOKKA has officially been sunk. Guys. it was my favorite ship in ATLA. Aside from Zuko X Honor. BUT THE LINZIN. LET IT BE KNOWN FROM THIS DAY FORTH I SHIP THIS PAIR SO HARD. I WILL GO DOWN WITH THIS SHIP. FOREVER. Is it wrong? Maybe, but it feels SO RIGHT.

Anyway, this story took a bit of a twist than what I had intended. BUT MY GOD MY LINZIN FEELS. I CAN NOT. So, I hope you like this next little part.

* * *

.

.

.

c l o u d e d

"All better—for now, at least."

Asami nods as Korra moves away to take the scraps of bandages not used and place them in a pouch she's got tied to Naga's saddle. The dog sleeps in the corner of the alley, her chest moving up and down with gentle pace. Korra gives the dog a loving scratch behind the ear before returning to her circle of friends and family collected in the middle of the narrow street.

"This brings back old memories," Bolin comments. He intends for the comment to be lighthearted but the words feel wrong the moment they spill from his mouth. He glances at his brother who wears an unreadable expression in his face.

"Guys, we need a plan," Korra announces, fixing her legs to cross each other. Asami runs her fingers over her bandages a few times before she focuses, her green eyes an alluring bright green in the dawn of the morning. She fishes in her pocket and produces two large wads of cash.

"It's all I could grab." she sighs. She looks away from the group and out toward the open streets. She begins to wonder what has happened to her father, to her home. She bites back the nagging feeling reminding her that history repeats itself and takes a calming breath. "Though, with the state the city's in, we might not need money."

Mako shakes his head. "It may not be useful here, but outside the city it might do us some good. Republic City isn't the world—" his eyes flicker to Korra, "We could go elsewhere."

She narrows her eyes accusingly. "I'm _not_ leaving Republic City. I _promised_ to fulfill my Avatar duties. And I'm not leaving until I do."

Mako rolls his eyes. "I never said we wouldn't come back."

"Mako, the city needs me! I can't just leave!"

"It's dangerous here!" he sputters, "You could get hurt!"

She can't firebend but she feels a fire rumble in the pit of her stomach. "I'm already hurt! I can't bend most elements, remember? And in case you forgot, _neither can you!"_

A sweeping silence washes over the group like the tides. Asami looks on at surprise at the pained expression that engulfs Mako's face. Bolin stares at Korra, an odd mixture of emotions etched across her features. She breathes heavily and draws a hand to press against her side, but doesn't gruff in pain.

Mako finally speaks again. "I'm sorry. I just…we almost lost you Korra." His voice is controlled now, quiet.

She looks down, ashamed. "I know."

Jinora sneaks into Mako's field of vision as she crawls toward him, settling her head in his lap. The caregiver qualities he adopted over the years come flooding back and his hands instinctively run through the small girl's hair. "You didn't see it." Mako snaps, his voice tainted with anger. "Amon baited you, baited all of us. He got you into that state and-and-!"

Korra throws her hands up, exasperated. "I know, I _lost it! _I went into the Avatar State, and—" she chokes on her own voice. "He _used_ me. Amon used me, because I didn't have control over my own body. And then he just—" Her fingers grab at stale air. "Let me fall. "

"He tried to kill you," Bolin pipes in. He twiddles his thumbs and looks to Asami, grief-struck. "He blew up City Hall and the rest of the damn city and tried to kill us _all."_

Mako pinches the bridge of his nose. He isn't liking where this conversation is going. "But he didn't," Mako reminds her. He reaches for Korra's hand, careful of the small child who just fell asleep, her cheek presses against his leg. "He didn't kill you."

Korra opens her hand, flexing her fingers and inspecting her knuckles. "But he did something, Mako. What—what did he do to us?" Mako suddenly grabs at her palm. He's as quick as winds and his touch as warm as the fire he lost.

"We'll figure it out."

She smiles and relaxes her hand into his touch. Her fingers align with his and she notices how slender and pale they are, not a scar to count. Her own are chapped and knobby, covered in white lines and purple bruises.

"So," Bolin starts, "What is the plan?"

"Air Temple Island?" Korra mumbles, her eyes still trained on their entangled fingers. She briefly looks up to find he's doing the same.

"No, not safe, " Mako answers quietly. His eyes are clusters of gold, shining and glistening against the violet sky above.

"My house?" Asami offers. She looks back to the streets. Bolin follows her gaze, detecting her worry. "I don't know," he shrugs. "I don't know what's safe."

Asami bites her lip. "I just…want to make sure he's okay."

Bolin tries to toss her a grin. "Hey, he's Hiroshi Sato! He's got a million and one escape vehicles. If he's anything like his badass daughter, I'm sure he's fine."

Asami manages to return the smile. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"Besides," Bolin breathes, "I'm not exactly sure what he could do to help us. I mean, sure he has a lot of money and resources and maybe he has a lot of land and—wait what was I saying?"

Asami tries not to giggle—it feels wrong. "My dad _knows_ this city, you know? I just thought maybe he could help us."

Bolin smiles gently. He positions himself to lean against her. "We'll find him, I promise." He now faces the fire-engulfed streets. "He's out there, somewhere," he whispers.

"I hope so," she yawns. Her head doesn't hurt as much anymore. "What about the police station?" she asks, her voice sleepy.

Her tired voice is contagious. "I don't know. Maybe we could find the Chief. She'd—" he yawns. "She'd know what to do."

Quiet settles over them. Korra starts running her fingers along Mako's engraving the feel of his skin in his memory. It's soft and smooth with uneven complexion. Some places are paler than others, especially the tips of his fingers. It's only then she notices he doesn't have his gloves.

"We need to find Tenzin," Korra finally mumbles. She watches as Jinora stirs before starting to pull her hand away. Instead, his touch grows warmer as he pulls her hand and the rest of her closer to him. She can feel his pulse—steady and alive.

"Tenzin," Mako mumbles back. She thinks about getting up right then and there, assembling their supplies and starting the search party. But when she looks around she spots Asami and Bolin, their backs pressed against each other, asleep. Asami has her head rested on Bolin's shoulder blade and Bolin has his face to the sky. Jinora sleeps as well, her mouth parted slightly and her knees drawn to her chest. And as she looks to Mako, she watches as his eyes close and his head lolls and even after she suppresses a yawn, she doesn't stop herself from resting her head in the crook of his head and falling asleep.

* * *

She awakes like a crack of lightning ripping through her veins.

Everything is foggy. She blames it partially on the fog, partially on the uncomfortable heat that seemingly burns in the back of her eyes. There are flickers of light and areas of intense heat making appearances in the corners of her vision but it's nothing compared to the fire that's set her lungs ablaze. She gasps for breath, falling into a fit of coughs and swatting clumsily at her face. She wipes off an alarmingly thick layer of ash off her cheek. Her fingers brush against the textured tissues of her scars before she sits up.

He lays feet away, the blues of his tattoos serving as a beacon. She follows the arrow to the bridge of his nose, where she sees a gash that produces sliver of blood that snakes around his nose and collects at the corners of his lips. His beard is smeared and matted in grime and she thinks she spots a dark bruise on his arm where his sleeve was ripped off.

The worst part of all is his eyes are still closed.

"Tenzin." Her voice is strong despite the pollution that litters her lungs. "Tenzin, get up."

No response.

She stands with ease, not a grunt of discomfort to count. Her joints crack but it's nothing new. She skips over to him and lays a firm hand on his shoulder, giving a strong squeeze. The blood on his face is dry. "Tenzin, dammit, wake up!" She shakes him fiercely—it isn't kind, but it's all the necessary. She searches his face for a sign of consciousness, but the blues of his arrows and the reds of his wounds brighten and fade as her vision plays cruel and disorienting tricks on her. She pinches the bridge of her nose and slams her eyes shut. She takes deep breaths, recalling her teachings and reopens them.

The damn world is still foggy.

She shakes him again, and this time he stirs. Unlike her, he awakes slowly, like the slow brush of an autumn breeze. His eyes, a murky grey just like the rest of the world, are muted and weary. He doesn't cough, doesn't groan, but let's out the softest of sighs.

"Lin."

She nods, her hand still on his shoulder. "What's broken?" She helps him sit up. He adjusts the scraps of his robes and rolls his necks a few times before answering, "Nothing." He grabs her wrist and pulls her close, looking at her face with scrutiny. "What about you, are you okay?"

She jerks away, a slight sneer on her face. "Of course I'm okay." She ignores the pulsing behind her eyes. Tenzin's brows come together in concern as he reaches for her again. He holds her cheeks in the palms of his hands, careful not to touch her scars. He stares at her and she closes her eyes and tries to ignore the familiar touch to his skin.

"No, no, keep them open."

She's curious by the tone of his voice. She meets his grey eyes once more and is a little surprised at the worry lines she's never noticed that burst from the corners of his eyes and lips.

"Does your head hurt?" He asks.

"Yeah," she snorts. "Just a big bump in the head, I guess." She reaches to scratch her head nonchalantly, but is disturbed by how much it hurts. Tenzin is immediately behind her, parting her hair and clicking his tongue in that disapproving manner he's always been so good at.

"A big bump indeed. You sure you're okay? How's your sight?"

Lin pushes him away, this time a bit more gently. She stands on her feet, and looks down at him, ignoring the blackened edges of her peripherals and the blurred lines that stand before her. The fires behind them ignite and extinguish themselves and Tenzin looks like a pool of pastel paints. She inspects the world around her and frowns. She can feel the heat, taste the ash and smell the smoke. She hears the crackling of flames and the whipping of wind and she bets if she concentrates long enough, she can hear the sound of her mother's voice.

"_I've always been blind, but I've never had a problem seeing."_

She takes a breath of air; it's dry and heavy. She feels his hands moments later, one on each shoulder. His fingers lay still, unlike the winds she's so used to him wielding. The warmth that radiates from his fingers is nothing searing or uncomfortable—it is warm and fresh and everything an airbender would be. She closes her eyes and focuses on that feeling, those smells, those sounds. They are strong and poignant and remind her that she's alive. Her senses are sharp and quick, just like they always have.

But when she opens her eyes, her world is cloudy.

"Crystal clear," she lies.

If her mother managed, then so would she.


	7. r u s t e d

_AN: Whoops. This took longer than I hoped. I just couldn't get Asami right, but I think I finally got it. Once again, sorry for the wait and enjoy!_

_PS: I could probably (totally) use a beta. Anyone interested? Just PM me :3_

r u s t e d

.

.

.

The sky is violet.

Asami tilts her head upward, careful of the sleeping earthbender leaning up against her. Her head moves against the jagged edges of his shoulder blade and it hurts. She readjusts her position and sighs out of frustration as his weight presses uncomfortably against the knots on her back. After wiggling for a few more minutes, she gives up and does her best to move without disturbing Bolin. She catches his head before it hits the ground and moves his arm so he isn't awkwardly laying on it while he sleeps. She rolls her neck, reveling in the popping and cracking it makes before looking back up toward the sky.

They're far enough away from the major disaster zone that she can tell apart what are clouds and what are puffs of smoke. And as the unusual breeze drifts through the city, she thinks she can discern a few stars when the smoke and clouds clear.

Then again, it could be the embers playing tricks on her.

She stretches her arms out before her, her eyes catching on the emblem sewed on her sleeve. She traces it's patterns, getting lost in the dips and valleys of the gear.

"_You must always remember the most important gears of all are the ones turning in that magnificent mind of yours. Understand, darling?"_

She lets her hands fall to her sides and lets out a deep breath. Her head throbs with annoying persistence as her mind keeps turning her fears wildly, grinding each thought of insecurity with her far-fetched possibilities. She can't escape the pollution that the engine she calls her brain keeps churning out. She's going crazy, overheating, and she's afraid she won't be able to survive the destruction.

Asami can't wait any longer.

She shoves her hands in her pocket and tosses out a few wads of cash in front of Mako and Korra. She tiptoes around Bolin and grabs her helmet that sits on top the stolen equalist motorcycle that's leaning sloppily against the wall. She tries four times to put the helmet on, but her poor swollen head won't allow it. With a grunt of dissatisfaction she tosses it to the ground before walking the bike two blocks over and finally driving away.

.

.

.

"_What happens if we can't save everyone and beat Azula? Without the Avatar State, what if I am not powerful enough?"_

"_I don't know the answer. Sometimes life is like this dark tunnel. You can't always see the light at the end of the tunnel, but if you just keep moving... You will come to a better place."_

"Korra?"

She stirs slightly, her muscles aching. "Iroh?" she mumbles.

Mako looks at her confused. He pokes her cheek gently. "No, Korra, it's me."

She blinks once, twice. He stares down at her softly with concern. "Sorry," she says, leaning off his shoulder before rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Dreaming again?"

"Yeah," she breathes, looking around. She notices Jinora is still snuggled against Mako, his hand protectively on the small of her back. Bolin sleeps with his back to them and she concentrates on the rise and fall of his chest. She counts it rise twenty times before Mako gives her a shoulder a small nudge.

"Hey, where's Asami?"

Suddenly on alert, Korra jumps to her feet with the help of a little airbending. She takes one step forward, only to stop at the unfamiliar crunch from the bottom of her foot. "Oh, no," She mutters, picking up the wad of cash and presenting it to Mako. "She left her money here."

Mako gestures to the street with a nod of the head as he tried to wiggle away from Jinora without waking her. "Motorcycle's gone too."

Korra squeezes the cash in her hand, ignoring how the edges dig uncomfortably in her palms. She jogs over to Bolin and nudges him with her foot. "Bo!" she hisses. He doesn't wake. She rolls her eyes—even in times of trouble, he manages to still be a deep sleeper. She kicks a little harder. "Bolin!"

He's up in an instant, his stance wobbly as he prepares for an attack. "Huh, what? Where's Amon?" Korra grabs him by the sleeve and pulls him close, destroying his defensive pose.

"Where's Asami gone to?"

He spins around quickly. "Huh? What? She left?" He exclaims, pulling at his hair. "Why—Why would she just leave?"

"Her father," Mako answers shortly. "No doubt." Korra and Bolin nod in agreement.

"We have to go after her! We can't just let her—aagh!" Korra clutches at her side, her knees buckling with the intense pain that surges suddenly through her body.

"Korra?" Bolin asks quietly, and Mako hears the scared little orphan boy in his voice.

Korra looks up through squinted eyes. "Sorry, guys it's just for a second—" The bending brothers watch in horror as blue eyes roll into the back of her head before she crumples to the ground.

"Korra!"

.

.

.

"You've _got_ to be shitting me."

Asami continues to grumble profanities as the motorcycle coughs loudly a few times before stopping completely in the abandoned street. She feels the air become static and hot and she doesn't like the sound of burning fires that are whispering in her ear.

She jumps off the thing, not caring that it falls to its side. Placing her hands on her hips, Asami sighs as she looks around for anything useful. There are scraps of debris anywhere and everywhere, but not a tool to help her. She groans to herself and she looks to the motorcycle.

Well. Doing nothing sure as hell wasn't going to get it fixed.

Asami starts removing it's frame, getting down to the greasy engine. She starts picking at it one by one, moving wires and bolts to try to find out what's gone wrong. Her eyes glaze over the entire thing over again before she sifts her weight to get a better look.

Something presses against her boot—her blade.

She digs it out and twirls it a few times, a small smile growing on her lips. It was a blade, yes, but it was much more. She presses the blade gently until it folds down, the blade covered in dried blood disappearing into the red shell of its handle. There's a small button on the bottom; she presses it and watches as a screwdriver comes out. She repeats the process and checks for the small wrench, various knives, and all the other tools her father gave her to help her when she was in a jam.

Future Industries emblem shines proudly on the handle.

She goes back to work, sitting in the middle of a quiet, abandoned street, rearranging bolts and adjusting wires, tightening, loosening, doing her best to get the damn thing to start again. She tries the engine three times, each after a new attempt at fixing the problem, but it's still not starting. She pulls at her hair a bit, ignoring the pain that's paired with it.

"Maybe you need a replacement, sweetheart."

The voice is too loud, too close. Asami doesn't even turn around. She's swift as she flips backward, twisting her body so she's behind the young man. With one hand on the back of his head, the other grabbing his arms, she slams his face into the ground. She hears him give a weak chuckle.

"Relax," he only sounds a little irritated. "I'm not going to hurt you."

She stares at the back of his head, eyes narrowed in distrust. "Name," she says sternly.

"You're hurting my feelings; you don't remember?"

"_Name_," she demands again, and she starts to realize her voice is pathetically hoarse.

"I used to be captain," he starts, his voice smooth with a tint of sadness. "Today I'm just Tahno."

Asami immediately releases him, her eyes wide with surprise as she watches him shake the dirt free from his hair. He sits up and looks at her, his eyes nothing like she remembers. He smiles—no, smirks—at her, his thin lips pale.

Another chuckle. "Maybe you'll let an old _pro_ help you, hmm?"

.

.

.

"They really torched the place, didn't they?" Lin wrinkles her nose as smoke tickles her nostrils. They keep walking among the rubble, metal shards poking at her feet—she lost the shoes a long time ago. She tries to stare at Tenzin as he walks in front of her, hoping that something will finally stay in focus, but it isn't working very well. "Those equalist," Lin spats, "For people who want equality and true peace, they had no problem following Amon's orders to burn the city down." She waits for Tenzin to answer, but he doesn't. He hasn't spoken in a long time.

They keep going before he finally says, "Lin, we need to get to the air temple."

He swings in and out of focus, and she pretends she isn't getting nauseous. "Tenzin, I—"

He turns, his back toward her. "I left my family there! I have to make sure that they're okay." She closes her eyes and concentrates on vibrations. She practically hears his fear vibrating in crooked lines that spread jaggedly through the earth and air, the man's shaking so much. She opens her eyes again, favoring the disorientation of her reality.

"Of course," she whispers. "But Tenzin," she begins. She swallows a gulp of air and braves herself to say it, because she's Lin, and she isn't one to spare feelings. "Please understand. The temples were targets the first time. And—" her breath hitches. _Bravery_, she reminds herself. "History has this nasty habit to repeat itself." The last part comes out choked and pathetic, but she thinks it couldn't be said any stronger.

She watches as her world fades and sharpens. The torn cape of his garments sway in the bay breeze and the chokes of his sobs might be the most painful vibrations she's ever known.

"I know," he manages to say. "I know."

.

.

.

She hands him the wrench. "Where did you learn this stuff anyway?"

An amused smile curls on Tahno's lips. "You pick up a thing or two once you're stripped of the life you've always lived." His eyes flicker to hers briefly, gleaming with something she can't decipher.

She leans her swollen head on the back of the motorcycle. "I'm sorry about your bending."

He waves her off, his eyes still trained on the engine. "I'm done with the pity train, darling." This time Asami detects determination. "Wallowing around won't get it back, now will it?"

Asami huffs contently.

They sit in silence as he picks apart the engine. "I think I see the problem," he finally says, pointing to the gearbox. "This isn't the original—they've replaced it, but I don't think it's quite compatible with this model."

Asami pushes him aside to look for herself. "Really? How'd I miss that…" she muses, taking the pocketknife from Tahno's hand. The ex-bender shrugs.

"Beats me. But I think I know something that'll do the trick." He leaves Asami to pick and prod at the engine. She removes one of the plates and tosses it aside, only to be distracted at the familiar way it feels, the sparkle it give off when it hits the rising sun just right.

She stares at the engine and back at the plate. She's been going through the engine like it was _her_ bike. But, this wasn't her bike. This was an _equalist_ bike.

She's been taking apart an _equalist bike_, and she hasn't even noticed; and that scares her.

Asami picks up the plate slowly. She forces her eyes to blur the world around her as the copper, circular engraving sparkles like she remembers, sparkles like the future her dad promised would be so great.

The tears spill and the small crest, no bigger than her nail, becomes clear.

A gear.

Her gear.

.

.

.

_Note 2: I may watch Top Gear and have a huge crush on Jeremy Clarkson, but I still don't know anything about cars or engines. Sorry for the vague descriptions_

_Also, Tahno. asdjkl;  
_

_Thanks again for all the support and feeback! I love everyone in this fandom :D _


	8. s n a p p e d

s n a p p e d

.

.

.

"Sweetie, wake up."

Ikki wakes, disoriented, and meets the frantic eyes of her mother. It's an unfamiliar sight; her mother is commonly annoyed, cheery and on occasion, sad. But this is the first time she believes she's ever seen Pema scared out of her wits.

"Mom?" she asks, her voice hoarse. She rubs the sleep from her eyes and she notices her newborn brother is held protectively against her mother's chest. Her mother grips her shoulder tight—it almost hurts-and has her sit up right on her bed. With her free hand Pema grasps her daughter's cheek, her fingers running wildly as if the touch of her skin burns.

"Ikki, get your glider and let's go." Still confused, Ikki watches as Pema dashes out of her room and yells something out the door. She thinks she hears Meelo shout back, but she's too tired to tell. She slips on her shoes and goes to the corner to retrieve her glider, stepping past the large window in her room. The view was always the same—Aang Memorial Island in the corner, Republic City in the back and the ocean, dark and blue as it is every day.

The light radiating from the window casts an eerie, orange glow to her skin.

Her eyes widen and she jumps on her bed, bending her head awkwardly to get a better look. Dissatisfied, she gives a little grunt as she pushes the window open, a sudden burst of hot air tickling her cheeks.

"Mom?" She cries again, the whole word shaking with nervousness. Her mother come running in and yanks her from her bed and sets her on the floor. Ikki catches a glance of the other Acolytes gathering by the harbor.

The baby is still in her arms and Meelo comes running up behind, his usual wicked smile long gone. Pema glances between all her children before she pulls Meelo next to Ikki. "Listen to me," she snaps, and Ikki almost wants to shrink away from the sound. "Protect each other, got it?" Meelo sniffles and instinctively, Ikki reaches out and grabs his hand. "You guys are _airbenders_," Pema emphasizes. "The _only_ ones—" Pema tries to swallow an uncomfortable lump in her throat. "Don't let anyone take _anything _away from you. Not your bending, not your spirit, not your _life."_ Leaning forward, she places a quick kiss on Ikki's forehead, then Meelo's. She looks at the baby in her arms for a few seconds before slowly lifting her chin to meet her children's eyes.

"Jinora isn't here—not this time." Ikki sees her mother's eyes swell with tears. "She can't help. You have to help yourselves. Whatever happens, you make sure you both make it out alive, got it?"

Meelo slumps over and buries his face in his mother's robes. Ikki wants to do the same, but Pema reaches out and touches her, more gently. "You and your brothers first—no exceptions."

Ikki frowns, her lips trembling. "I won't leave you, mom."

Pema forces a stern look. "If it comes to it, you'd better," and with that Pema pulls her daughter into a bone crushing hug.

Ikki grabs onto the fabric that bunches at her mother's waist, holding so tight in hopes that she'd never have to let go. But as she feels hot tears drip on her forehead, Ikki gives one last squeeze and lets go, because something is terribly, terribly wrong, and they don't have time for this.

She wishes they did.

For now, they're together. Ikki hears Meelo whine about something and Pema shushes him, ushering all four of them out of the young air nomad's bedroom. Meelo heads the group, running ahead, and that's when she notices.

"Meelo! Your glider!"

The boy turns around scared. "I can't find it!"

She has to resist the urge to roll her eyes because this isn't a normal night where she can pick and tease her brother. Instead, she gives her own glider a quick twirl before tossing it to Meelo. "Take mine."

Pema stops at the doorway, her attention torn between her children and the last of the acolytes filing out of the temple. Ikki takes Meelo's hand and wraps it firmly around hand-carved staff. "I know you haven't quite gotten the hang of it yet—but it just might come in handy."

Meelo bites his lip. "What about you?" he whimpers.

Ikki looks frantically to her mother, whose attention is currently on her upset baby brother. "Just—Just go on ahead! I'm going to run and get yours."

Meelo takes a step forward. "No! Mom said—"

"5 seconds, Meelo, I promise!"

Suddenly she's running as fast as she can, her feet barely touching the floor. It's almost as if she's running on wind, trying to prevent anything from touching her. But although the horizon is on fire and her family is panicked and her way of life is being threatened—her home is quiet and cool and she's still safe.

So Ikki doesn't understand why she's already crying.

She almost runs past Meelo's room and grabs the doorframe to stop her. She dashes in and locates the glider in seconds.

"Ikki!"

"I'm coming!" And she's crying so hard she doesn't know who's calling her name.

_Run, Ikki, run! Be the leaf, be the leaf, be the—_

She falls to the ground, clutching her ears.

_Spirits,_ it is _loud._ It echoes off all the walls and rattles in her ears. She stands back up, her senses shaken, and uses the glider as a cane to guide her back to her brother.

They're gone.

She feels her heart race. Yeah, she gave them the okay to go on ahead, but a part of her thought they would have waited.

Something was wrong.

The noise sirens again, and Ikki winces. She lets out a weak scream, which is apparently loud enough to catch someone else's attention.

"Ikki!" Meelo is by the window, his large eyes trained on the site outside. The young airbender runs over to meet him, only to see the orange horizon is dotted with unfamiliar mechanical stars.

"What's going on?" Meelo asks, tugging on his sister's robes. She yanks him away from the window.

"Something bad!" she exclaims, and rushes him out the door.

She no longer cared for a magical castle in the sky.

Not if it meant this.

.

.

.

"I think I've got something that might—whoa. You alright there, darling?"

Tahno watches carefully as the young Sato heiress grips the screw driver tighter and tighter in her palm. He tilts his head a bit and watches as the head digs so deep, blood starts trickling from her hand and running around her wrist. He quickly steps forward and reaches for the tool, but she shrinks away. Instead, his hand finds a home on her shoulder and gives it a squeeze.

"I'm pretty sure that's not how you use that," he says quietly. After moments of extended silence she throws the screwdriver to the ground and picks up a plate from the gear box, shoving it square into his face. He takes it, giving it a quick glance, before he looks back up.

"Yeah, it's a—"

Her face is so red. She's shaking so hard he can't tell if it's from anger or sadness but he figures it has to be a mixture of both. Her eyes are wild and the colors of her eyes are as fiery as the flames that are burning the city down. She clenches her jaw and uses a bloodied finger to reach out and point to the engraving in the back.

He sees droplets of blood drip and soil her family emblem etched on the back of the plate.

He stares, a little surprised, before letting out a tired breath. "Ah, I see."

She throws the plate to the ground, angry. "Did you? Did you really? Were you aware of this the entire time? Was I the only one who didn't _fucking know!"_

She leans her head up to the grey sky and screams.

Tahno washes as she thrashes her fists against the motorcycle. "Why?" She repeats, over and over again. "I don't understand!" She gets to her feet and starts kicking the motorcycle, leaving dents and scratches. She spins and twirls and it isn't long before she falls to the gound, dizzy and in pain, clutching the back of her head.

Tahno approaches her once more as she rocks back and forth. "Dammit," she whispers. "Dammit!"

Tahno isn't familiar with comforting—it's never been his forte. But he's seen others do it and he's willing to give a try. So he takes a deep breath and wraps his arms around Asami; he's only a little surprised to feel her collapse into him.

She doesn't sob, but her body shakes. She claws at his clothing and makes strangles, choking noises, but he doesn't hear her cry. "You know, this doesn't change things—not really."

Asami lifts her head to reveal her bloodshot eyes. "How could you say that?"

He shrugs, adjusting his hold on her. "So your dad's an equalist," he ignores how she cringes. "But that doesn't mean you are."

Her eyes narrow. "He lied to me! He's been building them their machines! Who knows—"

Tahno flicks the top of her forehead. "Listen, for just a moment? hmm?" He feels her relax ever so slightly, and uses that as his cue to continue. "I can't bend," he says simply, nonchalantly, and it makes something in Asami's stomach churn.

"At first," he continues, "I thought my life was over. Bending was my thing, you know?" He sighs dramatically and rolls his neck. "But I had to _adjust_. Like a true waterbender, I adapted to the change and you know what? It wasn't so bad."

He leans in and whispers in her ear, "I also like to think I'm not so much of an ass anymore."

She snorts. "Up for debate."

He fights a smile, because he doesn't feel it's appropriate. "My point is, sweetheart, that I was forced to be myself without my bending. And after all the tantrums and meltdowns and all the other petty turmoil, I realized—I was still Tahno. Whether, or not that's a good thing is up for debate, like you said." He feels her shift her weight, her head rubbing against his chin. "I'm not a bender—but, I don't hate benders. So, I ask you, Asami Sato, a very important question."

The sun has risen and he feels hot air carry through the city breeze.

"Now that you know your father's an equalist—do you suddenly hate benders? Or do you still want to fight this battle, and win?" He pokes her shoulder with each word, "Did. Anything. Really. Change."

He feels her smile into his chest before she lifts her head, her eyes cooler and her body still.

"It did," she admits, but her smile is still there. "But, not with me. Never with me."

Tahno untangles himself and helps Asami put the motorcycle together, complete with homemade adjustments. She hops on the motorcycle, leaning all the way forward. "What are you waiting for?"

Tahno gives a sly smirk as he swings his leg over the seat and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Where we going?"

"My house," she replies, starting the engine, smiling to herself as it roars with life.

"What if we run into your father?" he asks, but he already knows the answer.

"I sure hope so—I've got a bone or two to pick with him."

"Atta girl."

.

.

.

"Lin?"

She stares at the ground, pretending she didn't just bump into Tenzin's back for the fourth time since they started trekking to the bay. The man's always been light on her feet—that paired with her crushing disorientation and the vibrations given off from flickering embers and the throbbing pain in her head isn't making it any easier to sense where he is.

"What," she snaps, and she's a little disappointed at how tired she sounds—it's pathetic.

She concentrates on him and only him so not to slip up again. She feels him get close and she bites the inside of her mouth when she feels his soft hands cup her cheeks. His heartbeat is as steady as it's always been and her blurry vision only lends her enough to tell he's got his brow in a deep V and those arrows of him are still blue.

"You can't see, can you." She hates the way he makes it sound like a fact, something that can be found in the history books for everyone to learn. Lin gently tugs away from his touch, bringing her fingers to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"I can," she defends. "It's just disorienting, so I choose not to."

Tenzin sighs.

"Well, what are you going to do about it?" she barks. "It's not like I can just fix it." Her fingers rest on the bump on her head. "I'm sure it's only temporary, so let's keep going." She steps aside and leads the way. Tenzin stays there for a few moments before using his air bending to quicken his pace to get to her.

"Your mother's teachings came in handy, didn't they?"

Lin can't help but smile. "They always do."

They walk in silence for a while before Lin says, "You could get there a lot faster, you know."

"Hmm?"

"Ditch me, and you'd get to the temple in no time." She tilts her head toward him. "So, why don't you?"

Tenzin tugs on her shoulder, spinning her around. "That would mean leaving you all alone—and I can't do that."

"You've never had a problem before."

He leans forward, his forehead bumping against hers. "I can't say sorry enough, can I?" he whispers.

Lin doesn't reply.

"We'd better hurry," he tugs on her sleeve and Lin feels a breeze of air hit her face as he turns around. He only takes a few steps before he turns into a messy blob of red and yellow.

It's getting worse, and it was only a matter of time before she truly understands how her mother felt.

.

.

.

"_I wasn't there when the Fire Nation attacked my people. I'm going to make a difference this time."_

"Korra!"

"_Every day more and more people die. I'm already a hundred years late. I have to try, Katara."_

"Spirits, Korra, Come on!"

"_If you are killed in the Avatar State, the reincarnation cycle will be broken and the Avatar will cease to exist."_

"Korra! WAKE UP!"

Korra opens her eyes, her world shaking and bobbing up and down. Through her murky vision she notices she's on Naga, Mako at the reins. Bolin's holding her up with one arm, the other one shooting rocks behind them. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Jinora gliding above them.

"W-what's going on?" she says, trying to sit up, but Bolin pushes her down.

"Finally!" Bolin barks before sending another wave of rocks. "We got attacked! You wouldn't wake up, Spirits, Korra—Mako, she's up!"

"About time!" He shouts, slapping the reins on Naga harder. "Come on, girl, you can do it!"

Bolin looks down at the newly awoken Avatar. He flashes her a lame grin. "Think you can help us out?"

She's up immediately, twirling her body and sending a huge whip of air the equalist's way. She jumps of Naga, causing Mako to slow to a stop.

"No more running," Korra declares as the brother's jump off and Jinora lands. "We're settling this—now."

It's a mash of elements and electricity as they all collide. Bolin defends his brother, sending rock walls and disks every which way, hoping Mako gets the chance to punch their heads right off their shoulders. Jinora's covering the back, using her staff to create circular wind patterns as defense.

Korra's in the middle of it all. She's still not used to being so light on her feet, but she's thankful for the pro-bending training that helped her along the way. She's blasting air, riding wheels and scooters but they keep getting closer and closer. The air is stifling hot and the electricity singes her hair. One of them manages to kick her square in the stomach, and she's thrown several feet back into the walls of a multi-storied building. Thinking ahead, she runs up the stairs, deciding she might have a better chance up high.

She knows they're hot on her heels, so she doesn't look back. After climbing all the stairs, she busts open the door to the roof and sends one giant blast of air behind her—it sends one of the equalists tumbling down the stairs, but that still leaves a handful. Korra doesn't even have time to wipe the sweat from her brow as she flips back, avoiding a hit from a glove-covered equalist ready to zap her into the next life. She's sick of all the electricity, the heat of the fires the dryness of it all. All she wants is to give them a taste of their own medicine, to singe their hair and make them fear electrocution.

She opens her mouth and feels a familiar warmth bubble in her chest, a feeling that trumps the discomfort of her wounds, the nagging pulsing in her side. Her blood rushes with warmth and when she lets out a long breath, hot red fire spills from her lips.

The equalists all jump back, and Korra smirks. There's wild kicking and spinning as flames explode from her hands and feet. She's winning this fight again, she thinks, and her bending is coming back and whatever happened to her _is temporary _and soon she'll be back to normal.

She doesn't notice an equalist creep behind her.

He's caught her so off guard, she wants so desperately to burn his face, but he kicks her head away, she tries to duck, but is unsuccessful and she's painfully electrocuted. With her last bit of strength she manages to pull away, only to realize she's run out of roof and tumbles down to the ground.

She panics for the slightest second before she realizes she can airbend. She moves her hands wildly about her and tries to create a pool of air to break her fall but when she thrusts her hands forward—

Fire spirals to the ground.

Eyes wide with surprise, Korra sucks in a deep breath of air and realizes she can't save herself.

Her firebending's back, but her airbending's gone.

She bites her lip and closes her eyes.

"_Korra!"_

.

.

.

AN: Dadada! Lookie! It's the next chapter! And it's kinda sorta long! Yaaaaay!

Did you notice I can't write fight scenes? I did.

Also, what if this fic caused people to ship Asami/Tahno (because it's kind of making me ship them whoops I really do ship everything.)

I can dream.

The tile for this section makes absolutely no sense, but I couldn't think of one so that's what it is for now.

Once again, Thanks bunches for all the support! I get tons of favorites, alerts and reviews on my stuff every day, and it really means a lot. Your feedback is what gets the chapters up sooner, so thanks :D


	9. s t a t i c

AN: So here's _static _a.k.a the chapter that finally starts to explain a lot of shit.

.

.

static

.

.

"KORRA!"

He looks up and sees Jinora; her face is a mess of moving waves as he tries to see past the wind that she wields as a shield in front of her face. Her uneven hair bounces wildly, but most of all, the browns of her eyes shake with uncertainty.

That's when he sees Korra.

She's falling. He's seen Korra fall before-he's knocked her off her feet enough times. She's fallen off the arena; she's jumped from his window into Yue bay. But she lacks the grace, the confidence, of having the water catch her below. He notices her desperate attempts to airbend and that's when he realizes there's fear shaking in the blue of her eyes as well.

He starts to run. The building looks taller now, narrower and imbalanced. He feels tears sting in the back of his eyes and a lump grow in the back of his throat but Mako has to keep running. It's almost like he's getting tunnel vision; he's dizzy with worry and anticipation and it makes him feel light. He jumps and hopes he can fly.

And he does.

"Mako!" Jinora uses her staff to send a puff of air to launch Mako in the air. It isn't much, but as he extends his arms and the air in his lungs cools his chest, the soft fabric of her wrap flutters in his grasp before her entire body slams into him, sending them hurling to the ground.

Mako twists his body and let's his back take the fall.

"Argh!" He groans. Mako gasps for breath, his lungs momentarily deflated from the impact. He closes his eyes slowly and counts to three, but before he even gets there he feels an unnatural heart warm his face.

"Mako? Are you okay?"

The heats back. He lets out a raspy "yes," before he feels her yank him up by his torn sleeve. He opens his eyes and watches as she throws him ungracefully over her shoulder.

"Did you firebend?"

She's running, and if he wasn't in so much pain he'd be a little impressed. "Yeah. But-Spirits, Mako, I got to get out of here."

She lets out a whistle. "Naga! Come!"

The dog comes charging, unafraid of the chi-blockers that surround them. Naga barks and they slink back a bit. Korra throws Mako ontop of Naga before hopping on herself. She slaps the reins and Naga runs to Bolin and Jinora, where Korra grabs Bolin by the collar and and tosses him halfway on the polar bear dog. She reaches for Jinora, but the airbender opens her glider.

"I'll follow." and with that, she launches herself in the air.

Korra doesn't have time to protest; equalists approach them on each side. A little shaky, Korra manages to balance herself on the little space she has on Naga. She jumps up and sends a large semicircle of fire their way, the force of her blow sending her flying back on the polar-bear dog, slamming roughly into Bolin's back.

"Whoa, watch it!" Bolin warns, scooting up to take the reins. "That last fire blast almost blew back and singed my—wait, what the hell you can firebend now!"

She grinds her teeth as she peers up into the sky, watching as Jinora tries to give them aerial cover. "Yeah, want to fill me on the details on how that happened?" she snaps.

Bolin scratches his chin clumsily. "What makes you think—oh, I see your point."

Amidst the waning chi-blockers and the bounce of Naga's steps, Korra manages to push Bolin behind her and takes back Naga's reins. "I'm not waiting any longer—I have to figure out what's happened to me."

.

.

.

"Tell me again what I'm looking for?" Tahno asks lazily, fiddling with a rather expensive radio he discovered on the corner table in Hiroshi's office.

Asami sighs, annoyed. "If it sparkles and shines, or looks any bit useful, take it." She tosses a brown knapsack his way which he catches without looking.

His brows knit in concentration as he tries to filter out the static. "Why are we robbing your own house?"

She runs to her father's bookcase and starts scanning the spines, finally picking a book written by Councilman Sokka, filled with detailed schematics of his earliest inventions. "The city's going to hell—and we're going to need the money." She leafs through the pages until she finds the earliest schematic of a hot air balloon—tucked inside the pages is a small wad of cash.

Jazz music rings through his ears and Tahno finally stop fiddling with the radio to join Asami. "He keeps his money in books?"

Asami shrugs. "Just some of it. A lot more he keeps invested in other stuff, like jewelry." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and Tahno picks up the sparkle of her earrings. "Most of it, my mother's. Every year for her birthday, he would buy her something super expensive, even after she died. I've already looked in his room for the jewelry box but I didn't see it, so I bet he hid it in here." She glances at the desk. "Keep leafing through books—try all of Councilman Sokka's—he was my dad's favorite inventor."

Tahno does as she asks. Asami inspects her dad's desk with a careful eye before finally lifting her leg high in the air and letting it come down hard on the center of the only drawer baring a lock.

"Who needs keys," she muses smugly as she starts rummaging through the contents of the desk—most of the papers are vaguely familiar; hood designs, engine models from last season and even the paint-job her father made for her car she received on her sixteenth birthday. But as she digs deeper, a frown appears on her face; there's the design for the equalist masks and gloves and she even sees one for the mecha tanks. But one—one is strangely out of place.

She pulls it out of the drawer, looking to Tahno—he's found another book full of cash, unaware that she's found schematics. Her eyes roam the page, brow deepening into a v. Her fingers roam the lines—what on earth _is _it?

"Anything sparkly yet?"

She jumps, startled. She quickly takes the schematic and shoves in her knapsack before bumping the drawer with her hip. "Nope," she answers, her lips smacking at the end.

Tahno shakes his head and goes back to the books. He's subconsciously tapping his foot to the smooth jazz when the radio fizzles loudly only to dissolve to momentary silence.

"_Hello, Republic City. This is Amon."_

The book in Tahno's hands slips from his grasp.

.

.

.

"So, then the merchant says to the earthbender, I think you guys have a "Rocky Relationship!"

Korra's mouth twitches into a faint smile as she listens to the soft giggle that bubble from Jinora. The young airbender is currently sitting in Bolin's lap, her head against his chest, listening to a few of his jokes and stories. To think the young earthbender can still make a child laugh warms Korra's beaten heart.

"He's always been like that."

Korra tilts her head to Mako, her eyes still on his brother. "Hmm?"

"Light-hearted. It's refreshing, isn't it?"

Her eyes slide to his and she notices the bags under his eyes—the gold of his eyes stick out under the bruise like circles—her hands reach up to run along a scratch across his nose she didn't catch before.

"Sorry I can't heal," she whispers. Mako knocks her hand away gently.

"I told you to cut that out—I don't blame you for a thing. None of us do."

Her shoulders slump. "You should," she grumbles. Her hands roam the tops of his shoulders, down his collarbone and arms. "Arm still hurt?"

"Catching you sure didn't help it," he smirks and it almost gets a rise out of her—he sees it fizzle in her eyes. "But it's nothing I can't handle."

She sighs, leaning back to sit on her bum with a heavy plop. Her eyes stare at her hand as a small orange flame bursts to life in her palm. She looks back to Mako, her own eyes lit gold with the reflection. "I thought—I thought we got away from Amon's grasp before he did anything." the flame vanishes. "But I guess not." she stares at Mako's hands. "I mean, he took your bending away. Did it-did it feel like anything?" she asks tentatively.

Mako repeats Korra's motions—his palms run cold. "I thought it was just a chi-blocking. It didn't feel much different—it was a little, but—" His hand flies to his forehead. "The whole thing is kind of fuzzy. I mean, you went into the Avatar State, City Hall collapsed, and then you just _fell_-." he pauses. "I saw Amon, I did, but there were so many equalists and yelling and chi-blocking I couldn't tell what was what and when I woke up—" He looks to her, wide-eyed. "Everything was dark and," his voice drops to a whisper. "I thought you were _dead."_

Korra stares at her hands. She continues to play with fire before she looks down the hall of the abandoned home they sit in. "I'm so sorry your bending is gone, Mako," she finally says. "I am so, so_ sorry_."

Mako shurgs, feeling this need to reassure her. "Maybe not? I mean, like you said, your bending is still...kind of there. Maybe mine will come back eventually. Maybe, this chi-blocking has this lasting effect and maybe—"

Korra snarls.

"Maybe, maybe, maybe," she mocks. "I'm sick of this maybe shit, Mako. I want to know—what. did. he. do."

They sit in silence, apart from the small giggling and chatter coming from Bolin and Jinora on the other side of the room. Finally, Mako scoots over, his bruised hand falling to cover her own.

"You're not just anyone. You're Avatar Korra."

She lets out a heavy breath through her nose, but says nothing.

"I think Amon did to you...what he did to everyone else. But, you're _not_ everyone else. So it backfired."

Her fingers tighten around his. "What do you mean?" she asks quietly. She mentally notices Bolin and Jinora are more invested in her and Mako's conversation now then their own.

"He tried to take away your bending—but you're the Avatar. No one's more powerful than you."

Korra snorts in protest and Mako bumps her shoulder playfully.

"I mean it. Maybe you haven't mastered that power yet, but you have it."

Bolin adjusts his hold on Jinora and scoots the both of them across the room. "Yeah," he pipes in. "Looks like the worst thing he did was mess up your bending for awhile."

Korra groans, sparks of fire spitting from her nostrils. "Who says it's for awhile? What if I'm like this forever; bending the four elements randomly because they like to come and go as they please? I don't even know if I can earth or water bend!"

Bolin reaches over and slings an arm around her shoulder. "Hey, calm down. You'll figure it out!" He shakes her a bit, tapping her skull with his knuckles. "You got thousands of years worth of intelligence in that thick head of yours—you're bound to have the answer somewhere."

"Too bad I haven't exactly been able to ask Aang-or anyone else, for that matter."

Korra watches as a faint blue, unfinished arrow slithers up her forearm. She looks into the cool brown eyes of Jinora. "I believe in you, Korra. you can do it."

Mako brushes her chin with his fingers, coaxing her attention to him. "We got your back."

"Thanks guys." She smiles, and means it.

.

.

.

She feels Tenzin sigh heavily.

They stand on the edge of the harbor. Lin approaches him, careful to keep her feet in sturdy ground. "Air Temple look all right?" She asks.

He nods, squinting his eyes. "I see the acolytes assembling outside—Pema must have gotten them to evacuate."

Lin clicks her tongue. "Smart girl," she admits. The island doesn't even fall into her sight—her head thumps with pain and she can only see color from her left. It's slowly slipping away and she's powerless to stop it.

"What's the fastest way to get there?" Lin asks quickly. There's no ferry to take.

Tenzin strokes his beard before he snaps his fingers in thought. "I can't believe I didn't remember...I must have hit my head as well." He pulls out a miniature bison whistle from his pocket, throwing it in the air and using his bending to make the whistle blow as loud as it can.

Lin covers her ears, familiar with the soft screeching it makes—to the normal person, it would not bother him, but to Lin, an earthbender with a terrible headache, she knew it wouldn't be pleasant.

The sound she heard was far worst.

Both of them rip their heads up, eyes wide with shock. The whistle is drowned off by a loud siren, the noisy machines of the air ships above. Tenzin squints and frowns.

"Is that..."

"Equalists!" he confirms with a snarl. The sirens wail again and Tenzin follows their path, his jaw unhinging at the realization.

Lin beats him to the punch. "The island! They're going to attack the island!"

Tezin curses, and he's never one to curse. He tugs harshly on Lin's arm. "You can swim, right?" he asks quickly.

Not appreciating his rough hold she snaps back, "I lost my sight—that doesn't make me my mother."

He pushes her back and takes the steadiest breath he can. "Remember when I tried to take you on the air scooter when we were kids?"

"It didn't work," she's quick to remind him. She knows the gears are turning in his head. But it's too late. It's a mess of flailing limbs and rushing wind and soon she's whisked off her feet, Tenzin balancing her awkwardly on an air scooter that's really only meant for one.

"It'll work now," he growls, and that's when Lin realizes while she's already lost a lot, Tenzin could lose a lot more. She looks to the ground—

_She can't see a thing._

-and hopes it doesn't come to swimming.

.

.

.

_I told you long ago that I had a plan—a vision, if you will. An era of equality. And today, well today…. begins the purification."_

Asami feels a chill slither down her spine.

"_The city is far too divided, far too imbalanced for any true equality to take place. That is why my followers, my fellow equalists, were given the task to burn Republic City to the ground._

_I'm sure you've all been properly aware._

_Years ago, this city was founded by Fire Lord Zuko and Avatar Aang. Two of the greatest benders of their time. They built it to bring people, specifically,_benders,_of all nations together._

_And look at the mess they've created._

_I will not sit back and watch the innocent be persecuted any longer. Today is the day we purge the city of inequality. Today is the day that benders will be eliminated._

_Permanently."_

"No," Asami whispers. She stumbles up to Tahno, her entire figure shaking, and grips his forearm. Tahno doesn't respond, his eyes trained on he radio before him.

_Today, benders will truly know what fear is._

_Take a look at your city, citizens. What stands out? The arena, the statue, city hall—Air Temple Island. Symbols of the bending…"arts."_

_Not for long._

_Currently, an armada of my personal air ships is armed and ready to destroy the remaining symbol of persecution and inequality existing in Republic City. And once Air Temple Island is destroyed—_

_Only the benders will be left. But that, too, will not last for long."_

_click._

Static roared in the room, clogging their minds with chaos. Asami gripped Tahno's arm tighter, yanking him toward her. "What does that mean? You don't think…well, you don't think Amon would kill benders, would he? He's only looking to take their bending away? Right?"

Tahno doesn't answer. Asami shoves him.

"Right?" She repeats louder. Tahno gives a weary sigh, his hand going up to massage his temples.

"Amon isn't a nice guy, sweetheart. He's capable of a lot of evil. I know."

Asami shakes her head, shocked. "But not murder," she tells herself out loud. Tahno shrugs, slinging the bag over his shoulder before walking to Hiroshi's window. He balls his fingers in a fist and punches the window out with one blow, a shard of glass puncturing between his knuckles. He gestures to the unseen bay.

"We'd better hurry. Air Temple Island—isn't that where the Uh-vatar's little gang lives?" he asks, one leg out the window.

Asami stands stiff, still in shock with Amon's announcement. Her mind is running wild with ideas and scenarios, but she just can't get that schematic out of her head.

It might just be the answer she needs.

Her hand runs along the paper edges inside the bag before she shoves it deep inside, throwing the bag over her shoulder.

"Bring the motorcycle around. I want to…look for something first."

.

.

.

AN: _guys i'm so sorry this is taking so long. I've always had the beginning and the end figured out but i'm literally winging up a lot of the middle. It's taking me awhile to get things to the place i need them, and i'm sorry for some of the slow progression. i tried to make it up in description and character insight and development, and i hope a little of that has shown. things are starting to get faster paced in my mind and i'm getting to the key point i wanted make a pretty stellar ending. just a few more pieces to work out!_

_thanks again for any reviews, alerts and favorites. I need to be better about getting back to you guys personally, but i really, really, do appreciate it. reviews make me smile and i have only gotten positive feedback and constructive criticism and i thank you for that. those things really make me want to push through and finish a damn story for once :P_

_also, i wrote a drabble like thing. you should check it out._

_also, again, i'm in the process of doing some co-writing, so look out for that. and in a few days, the first chapter of my AU fan fic based on dine and dash should be posted!_

_thanks again!_

_PS: I'm still madly in love with Lin Beifong. I'm almost opposed to Linzin cause I kind of want her to myself (who am i kidding they are perfect) I literally take shelter on the S.S Linzin when the Makorra V Borra V Masami tumblr wars get way out of hand. and when it's really bad, i crawl back to Tokka :P_

_PPS: I totes ship Tahsami. Like, totes. (bahahahaha)_

_PPPS: It is 5 am over here i've been up all night don't kill me if this author's note is in a different language i wouldn't be surprised._


End file.
